


'til we're blown away

by theworstwolves



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Face-Sitting, I'm Sorry, Jack's moustache, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworstwolves/pseuds/theworstwolves
Summary: The title comes from a song called 'sit on my face', I guess that's all you need to know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So the picture of [ Jack's moustache ](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/151765740942)is old news now but here we are.

Bitty doesn’t hate Jack’s moustache, he’s just aggressively not a fan of it. Jack has a great face - chiselled cheek bones, fantastic lips, the jaw of a god, and for some reason, he’s decided to put that monstrosity smack bang in the middle of it. Bitty knows it’s for a good cause, Jack keeps sending him updates about the sponsors he’s getting and he’s really happy for him, but he also has to look at the moustache each time they face time and it’s not great.

November starts when Jack’s on a roadie, which means for the first week all that Bitty is seeing of the moustache is pixels on a screen. By the time he sees Jack in person, on November the 9th – the first time they managed to match their schedules up that month – the thing on his face is already fully grown, dark and thick and covering his upper lip in a way that Bitty tries not to cringe at. He loves Jack, he does and sometimes being in love means you have to put up with things you wouldn’t normally.

Kissing Jack takes a lot of getting used to. It’s still great, of course it is, this is Jack we’re talking about.  He still makes Bitty’s stomach twist, still sucks Bitty’s lips between his and bites down with a groan, still does all those things that drive Bitty wild it’s just, right now, he finds himself wondering if this is what it’s like to kiss Shitty.

It’s not what he wants to be thinking about.

Not when Jack is peppering little kisses across his jaw, five o’clock shadow scratching in the best way and _that’s_ familiar but the way his moustache tickles is not.

Bitty thinks that while this may be similar to the way Shitty kisses he’s sure that Shitty’s dick wouldn’t slide against his in the way that Jack’s does. He’s seen Shitty’s dick, he’s sure that everyone at Samwell has seen Shitty’s dick, and it’s about as dissimilar from Jack’s as a dick could be. But then Bitty’s only had experience with Jack’s dick and his own, maybe all dicks feel the same. Maybe Shitty would rock against him in the exact same way Jack is, maybe he’d breathe _Bits_ like Jack is, teeth grazing against his neck as he speaks.

He’s sure Shitty would talk more though. He’s say more than just _Bits_. He’d say things like _it’s weird what people count as sex, don’t you think, like I guess for some people this would just be foreplay, but for you guys this is just_ play _right?_ or _what’s the big deal with penetration anyway? I’m assuming you don’t want me to… or do you do that? God I shouldn’t assume roles based on stupid heteronormative ideas of gender. I’m sure you give great dick Bitty_ or –

Bitty rests his hands against Jack’s shoulder and pushes him back slightly, so he can no longer feel him against his skin. He leans in a pushes a kiss against the dip between his collar bones, moving down to lick across his nipple, mouthing at the hair on his chest as it trails down his body and darkens. He makes eye contact with Jack as he wraps his lips around his dick, all thoughts of Shitty chased from his mind at the heat and taste of him. Jack opens his mouth and his eyes slide shut. This is just his and Jacks. There’s no space in his head to think of anything else right now. He’ll kiss Jack later, when he’s gotten used to the moustache.

_

Two weeks in and he’s still not a fan, but at least kissing Jack feels natural again and occasionally he’ll find himself  looking at him and thinking how handsome he looks, all be it in an eighties porn star way kind of way.

“I’m not going to say it’s growing on me.” Bitty tells him one night.

“It’s growing on me.” Jack replies, and Bitty has to walk out of the room and ask himself why he’s dating a man that not only grows a terrible moustache, but also makes terrible puns about it.

_

He talks to Lardo about it. He avoids explicitly telling her that, the first night Jack got back, he found himself thinking about Shitty while they we’re having sex but he mentions that the moustache is still weird as fuck, and that she is possibly a saint for putting up with.

“Shitty’s always had one.” She points out, “like I think he’d look weird as fuck without it. I guess we all know that Jack shouldn’t have one, that’s what’s strange about it.”

Bitty agrees, and reminds himself that he doesn’t have long until Jack gets rid of it, it should be fine.

And then Lardo says, “the first time he ate me out though, god that was weird. Like girls don’t tend to have that much hair there, I wasn’t quite sure what I was letting myself in for. It adds something though I think.”

Bitty stares straight ahead and tries not to let his mind wander. They’re in the library, and its’ not the time of the place to talk about such things. Lardo catches his eye though and laughs. “I know what you’re doing next time you’re in Providence.” She tells him, and ignores his protests that it is not.

_

It’s the 29th of November when he finds Lardo’s words echoing around in his head. In less than twenty four hours the moustache will be gone and Bitty will being able to get on with his life with a nice, clean shaven boyfriend, he’s looking forward to it, but –

“Okay fuck! I need to know what that thing feels like when you go down on me.”

Jack looks over at him, a frown playing across his face. It’s a comment that’s slightly out of the blue when you consider the fact that they’re sitting on Jack’s couch in watching TV. Not even sexy TV, just some documentary about aliens that they can chat over and won’t miss out on much if they make out every now and then. It’s not a comment that’s out of the blue for Bitty though. He’ll never admit it to Lardo – he will not be dealing with the smug look on her face – but since she mentioned it he’s found himself thinking about it when his mind wanders and if he doesn’t find out now he never will.

“I blew you an hour ago.” Jack tells him, smirking over at him, deliberately obtuse.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“Yeah?” Jack asks, he’s still looking forward to the screen but the hitch in his breath is unmistakable. “Well go get in the shower and then we can find out.”

They don’t do this all that often, for various reasons.

They don’t see each other all that often and sex you have to prepare for isn’t really something they seem to have time for. It’s easier now they’re out, now that Bitty can spend whole weekends at Jack’s without being asked where he’s going, but they still tend to get each other off with mouths, hands and thighs, quick and messy and then back to the haus, and the team, and on with their day. It’s habit. Though these long, languid weekends at Jack’s are something Bitty’s starting to cherish. 

Another thing is that Bitty is still kind of squeamish about it. The first time Jack suggested it he turned bright red and choked on air. It’s not like he hadn’t heard of it before, he was southern and closeted, not from another planet, but hearing about something, and being in the position to do it, are two very different things.

He’d done it to Jack first, after some discussion, and Jack assuring him that yeah he liked it, but it wasn’t a dealer breaker if Bitty didn’t want to, he didn’t even have to try, it was okay. But Bitty had wanted to try, and seeing the way Jack clung to the sheets as Bitty opened him up with his tongue, wet and dirty, feeling how Jack had pushed back against him and begged for more and come when he’s pushed a thumb in had convinced him that yes, he wanted to see what it felt like.

Still, Bitty’s of the opinion that if any ass in the relationship should be paid special attention it should be Jack’s. Because Jack’s ass is a masterpiece and Jack looks fantastic when he’s been fucked, and occasionally he’ll put dress pants on and Bitty will feel himself going weak at the knees. Jack says he like his ass though,  Jack will slip his hand in Bitty’s back pocket when they’re alone or with the team, or hold onto it as Bitty’s fucking him and the times Bitty does let him focus on it it feels like Jack’s practically worshiping him.

By the time he’s clean and out the shower he’s already half hard at the thought of what’s to come.

Jack’s moved from the lounge and is laying on his bed, flicking though his phone lazily, when Bitty enters. He places it down on the bedside table, shifting so he’s sat slightly.

“How do you want me?” he asks.

Early on in their relationship questions like that made Bitty feel like there was a chance he might spontaneously combust, just explode in a puddle of want and awe at the fact that _he_ was being asked _that_ before Jack even got to do anything. Now he lets his eyes track down Jack’s body, lets the towel he has wrapped carelessly across his hips drop a little and says, “I kind of really want to sit on your face.”

Jack bites down on the inside of his lip, his nostrils flare slightly, “yeah, you can do that.”

Bitty makes his way over to the bed, dropping the towel completely as he goes and crawling over Jack. He kisses him, hard, hands cupping at his jaw as Jack licks into his mouth, a taster of what’s to come.

“Mind if we skip the foreplay?” He’s hard already and he can feel this itch under his skin at the need to get Jack’s mouth on him. He’d slipped a finger inside of himself in the shower and now feels empty without it. They can make out any time. This he needs right now.

Jack nods, pulls back and settles himself down on the bed. He looks up at Bitty, waiting for him to make his move and Bitty isn’t one to deny him.

He’s never asked outright, if Jack brought this bed with sex in mind, but he thinks there could be a distinct possibility. The barred frame has been put to good use, hands clinging at it, rope attached and now as a way for Bitty to anchor himself and hold his weight as he settles above Jack.

He silently thanks Ransom and Holster for being so obsessed with him doing all those squats, then chases the thought from his mind when he remembers his resolves not to think about their friends during sex. It’s easy to do, with Jack’s hands at his thighs pulling him down.

There’s no finesse to it. In other situations Jack is fantastic at this, working his mouth and tongue and hands until Bitty is shaking under him. Like this though, with Bitty’s weight on top of him all that skill is replaced by need and urgency. He can feel Jack smiling under him, pressing open mouth kisses against his hole, licking across him over and over again until Bitty’s slick with spit. He barely notices the moustache, which was, in theory, the whole point of this; he’s more concerned with the little noises Jack is making, the way he presses his tongue up and in.

Bitty wishes he could come from this alone. Jack can, and Jack looks beautiful when he does but Bitty needs more. It’s no enough, even as Jack kisses at him, grips at his thighs and his ass. Even when he conceptualises the fact that Jack’s under him, all six feet and two hundred pounds of him, that if Jack didn’t want him doing this he could stop him easily but he doesn’t, he won’t.

Bitty pressed on hand against Jack’s chest, lifting himself up a little, bouncing slightly, adding a rhythm as he wraps a hand around himself.

He might not be able to come because Jack’s doing this, but he sure as hell will while Jack’s _doing_ this.

It happens quickly, like a hand on his cock was all he needed. His legs give slightly, nails scratching against Jack’s chest as he comes and he stays there, for a beat or too, riding out the aftershocks, pushing against Jack to eke out every ounce of pleasure.

He slides himself back with a happy exhale, hands against Jack’s shoulders so that he stays down as Bitty moves down his body, until he can feel Jack’s erection against his damp skin.

Jack’s still in his sweat pants. He doesn’t seem to mind.

His mouth his red and wet, jaw covered in spit and as he wipes a hand across it he makes eye contact with Bitty, tongue darting across his lips like he can still taste him. Bitty groans, even though he knows it will be a while until he gets hard again.

He rocks against Jack, leaving damp stains against his pants; wiggling his hips and feeling Jack’s clothed cock nudge against his sensitive hole.  Jack’s hands move to his hips. He rocks up once and then comes.

Bitty’s a little smug he just made an NHL star come his pants, he’s not going to lie.

He lays himself down, heart still beating a little fast and turns his head so that he can kiss Jack gently. He’s gross and sticky, and Jack’s probably worse but right now he feels boneless, like it would take an army to get him to move.

“So, do I get to keep the moustache?” Jack asks him, wiggling his face so it dances under his nose and Bitty feels a little jolt in his stomach at how wrecked his voice sounds before really focusing on the absurdity of his words.

“No – though I might be really nice and let you do that again some time.”

“Yeah?” Jack asks him, pulling Bitty in to rest against his chest, “I guess I’m happy with that compromise.”

They’ll have to move soon. Bitty has come drying across his chest, Jack in his pants, and if they don’t do it soon they’ll end up falling asleep and waking up uncomfortable. He allows himself a moment though, reaching a hand up to brush against Jack’s jaw, brushing his fingers across his lips and that truly ridiculous moustache.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as[lesbianzimmermann](http://lesbianzimmermann.tumblr.com//)


End file.
